Goodbye...

 

Why do I feel...

Am gonna miss You much?

May be am in trance...

With your words.

Some shinning stars in eyes...

Across the windows.

I see you...

In my own shadows.

The bleak, the sleek;

The incomplete.

Thoughts often ride...

Never on seats.

Take my word...

I'll surely miss you.

May be you won't ever know...

And I won't ever show...

Don't take my name...

Like that...In one breath.

I'll lose my every breath...

Each passing moment.

Trembles my heart...

Whenever your thoughts sweep.

Deep into my mind...

My thoughts weep.

Close by,

Another voice echoes...

Don't forget...there's someone,

Waiting in meadows.

Hold my hand...

Just before I lie.

May be my dreams would sigh...

When I die.

Turned upside down...

My world ruins every time.

Whenever...

You wave me that...

Goodbye.

                                                                    
                                  (c)Ravinder Kaur
                                       13-09-2016

image source: littlepawz.tumblr.com

Stained Skies...

                                                                 

My flight ends...

Where skies get stained...

With streaks of tails...

Of the fading rainbow...

The remnants refrain...

Getting wet in rain...

Over the pyramids...

When sun sets in...

The clouds drift...

Taking loads of pain...

To the dry throats...

Of arid plains...

The pointed shadows...

Briskly walk through lanes...

Hurriedly in shades...

Of afternoon lighthouses...

Though everything hurries...

From dawn to rise...

At dusk each thing...

Weeps to come at still...

Knocking at doors....

Of defiant dreams...

All dust sleeps...

In rusts of sheets...

Troubled intensely...

Through ploughed minds...

Some seeds germinate...

In restful eyes...

The night watches over...

Calmly blindfolded...

In husky soft smiles...

Amused at all glory...

Coloured patterns...

Again would adapt...

In morning light...

Shall again re-trap...

Some more breaths....

On those unharvested plans...

To sprinkle some more...

Of life's magic sand...

©Ravinder Kaur

12-09-2016

image source:

www.patheos.com

Fake desires...

                                                            Crumpled bodies lying stiff,

                                                            Voices hollow; echoes drift.

                                                            Tearing apart silence drinks,
                                                        The whining sounds of tired brink.
                                                        The cliffs hang ashamed; stripped,
                                                       The depths of trenches alone weep.

                                                           Fake desires burn and brew,

                                                               In souls who aren't true.

                                                              Triple minded not double,

                                                            Because their life is a bubble...

                                                                    Of hidden desires;

                                                                       Fake and lies.

                                                                    Troubled minds,

                                                                 Mood swinging ever...

                                                                  Thoughts galloping,

                                                              In getting caught in green.

                                                               They hide their desires,

                                                                 Somewhere unseen,

                                                                 Rigorous, rebellious

                                                                    And confined...

                                                              They remain confused,

                                                                   At what to hide.

                                                                   Deeply rooted,

                                                                In turbulent waves.

                                                               They sway and sail,

                                                               In oceans untamed.

                                                     Trapped in their own fake desires,

                                                    They are never sure on who to rely.

                                                            Cross-checked, hidden;

                                                            Their expressions retire.

                                                               Even in their sleep,

                                                             They fear to be spied.



                                                              (C) Ravinder Kaur

                                                      image: www.shutterstock.com

I'll be gone...

I'll be gone....

I
am leaving today...

May
be this was due someday...

But
I think that day is today...

Some
barriers crossed...

Some
I lost to...

My
legs aching now...

My
ink drying now...

Mind
is nearing an ending fence...

To
cross it and I'll meet my end...

This
journey would end this way...

I
didn't know but it has to today...

I'll
spend this very breath...

All
alone, going insane...

Keeping
myself isolated from all...

I'll
build a very very tall wall...

No
one shall enter...

And
I won't escape...

Would
keep myself buried, misplaced...

In
a place where I know no one...

And
no one reaches me...

An
end in seclusion...

To
myself and only me...

Only
the wind would carry me...

Moistly
and silently...

Till
you read me....

I'll
be gone...

Ravinder
Kaur

(c)25th
Jan.2016

Image
source: annarmorgan.com

Between the sips..

Between the sips...

Between the sips,

From the tea cups.

We eye each other,

Looking for new tantrums.

The tea bags hang,

Soaked in the pot.

Giving in the aroma...

And colour of golden brown.



Certain things untold but heard.

Certain things still hang over our head,

Like clouds over the moon.

Moving when the winds move,

Carrying to our lips...

Between those sips.



When you hold me in your gaze,

Imprisoned for moments

Enchanting; the curled lips invite,

For another sip.

This time it's me...

Longing for your sip



While I feel the warmth

Of the sip in your breath.

I shy away thinking

The flavor you might add

To the kiss on my mind,

That my lips wait for.